Speaking and Seeking

This past Sunday my 15 year old, Cameron, gave a talk in church.  He wrote it all on his own.  No help from us.  His topic: Seeking the Gift of Charity.  Many have asked for a copy so here it is!

(For those of you who have been asking for updates on the family, those will come soon.  I apologize for my lack of blogging.  It just hasn’t been a priority.  I’ve been busy.  Making memories with my family.  But I will catch you up soon!)

Cameron’s Talk: (word for word from his paper)


Hello, for those of you who don’t know me, my name is Cameron Deputy.  I’m 15 years old, I play the guitar, and I’m a Mormon.  (side note from me:  this got everyone laughing since there have been so many commercials about us.  Good way to break the ice Cameron!  Okay, back to him.)

Today I’ve been asked to talk about seeking the gift of Charity.  Near the end of Jesus’ mortal ministry he gave one last lesson to his disciples located in John 13:34; “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.”  That lesson was just as important then as it is now.

Mormon wrote that, “if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth.  Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all.”  From the 1986 Ensign, President Ezra Taft Benson added to Mormon’s definition of charity, “The world today speaks a great deal about love, and it is sought for by many,” he said.  “But the pure love of Christ differs greatly from what the world thinks of love.  Charity never seeks selfish gratification.  The pure love of Christ seeks only the eternal growth and joy of others.”

The Apostle Paul emphasized the need for charity, or the pure love of Christ.  He stated, ” Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.  And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.  And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.”  There he is speaking about no matter what you have, without charity in your heart, it means nothing.

Jesus taught in Matthew 22:39 “And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”

Charity is the heart of the Gospel.  We seek to be like our Savior; therefore, learning to love as He loves should be our highest goal.

Such service helps both the giver and receiver develop charity – -as the Relief Society sisters in one ward learned when they helped a young mother face tragedy:

Blanche was in her early 30’s when she underwent an operation.  But a mistake was made, a nerve was cut, and Blanche was left permanently paralyzed.  She was confined to a wheelchair.  Her husband was an alcoholic and he soon left her and their four young children.  Blanche struggled to raise her children, with the help of family, friends, neighbors, and Relief Society sisters – all of whom helped her do what she could not do by herself.  Surprisingly, many of those who served Blanche often left her home wondering who had given and who had received!  Forced into a position of need for the rest of her life, Blanche often expressed her reverence for life and her gratitude for those blessings to all those who helped her.  She enriched their lives, and both she and those who served gained the blessings that Christlike service can kindle in our hearts.

Each of us will have chances to serve and to be served; both are indispensible to our salvation.  In serving and being served we can learn to love each other as the Lord loves us.

President Monson teaches: “Charity is having patience with someone who has let us down.  It is resisting the impulse to become offended easily.  It is accepting weaknesses and shortcomings.  It is accepting people as they truly are.  It is looking beyond the physical appearances to attributes that will not dim through time.  It is resisting the impule to categorize others.”

I’d like to bear my testimony that I know this church is true, being charitable is a blessing.  Not just to the person receiving it but also to the person giving it.”

Well done Cameron, well done!  You have done your family proud.

They Call Them Jell-OMellows

I am *so* stinking behind in blogging.  My apologies.  Or did ya even miss me?  Hmmm.

I have a lot to report on –  end of school year for the kiddos, busy schedules, summer goals, Conlin Chaos came to visit with the Franklin Clan, Fourth of July, Road Trip planning . . . I’ll save you from a massive post and split them up.

But first, a treat recipe.  You know how I love my treats!  Especially when they are simple, I have the ingredients, and they are super yummy.  This one is just that. Mainly marshmallows dipped in Jell-O and Voila!  They are super addicting, be warned.  Well, they have been for us.

I need to give credit where credit is due so head on over to Just A Pinch for the recipe and the specifics of how to put them together.  I love that website!

Here are pictures of us making them.



Thanks to my little helpers, Atalie and Griffin.  You guys did a great job keeping the mess to a minimum!


My Story. Kinda Personal.

A few years ago I was sitting alone in a doctor’s office waiting for him to return with any news.  It was my birthday and I remember getting anxious because I wanted to get home to go out to lunch with Greg.  It was sunny and I was irritated that I was sitting there.  Then the doctor, a specialist I was referred to by my family practitioner, came into the room with some films, paperwork, and an assistant.  The films were sent over by the hospital I had visited a couple of weeks earlier.  That was a long process that I was glad to have out of the way.  I wasn’t overly nervous because I felt like I was just covering all of my bases, get it all checked out and move on.  Nothing to be scared of.  Then he asked, “Mrs. Deputy, is there someone here with you?”  No.  No there wasn’t.  He continued, “Mumble, mumble, blah, blah, you have breast cancer, mumble, mumble, more blah, blah, blah . . . more tests in 3 months . . .jibberish, blah, blah . . . talk treatment . . .”  I’m not really sure what exactly he said, but key terms and words stuck in my head.

Funny thing?  I wasn’t scared.  A little shocked, but not scared.

During the 3 months that I waited for my next test I pretty much dealt with the news and what was to come.  I was relieved to be the one to have breast cancer because it would be easier to control.  Face it, if one in four women get it then I’d rather be that one than sit by and watch my daughters/sisters/or mother go through it.  At least I could *do* something.  Watching is so helpless.  Don’t get me wrong.  I cried.  A lot.  I grieved and was angry and begged for grace.  I went through every emotion I think I could go through. I wrote good-bye letters to my kids telling them how awesome they are and what potential I thought they had.  I gave them bits of advice for life and reminded them that each of them were very much wanted in our family and loved immensely.  I wrote a letter to Greg.  Reminding him that he was the love of my life and listed why.  I shared my dreams and hopes for him and the kids.  I told Greg where the letters would be and to not open them unless the worst happened.  We talked to a few close friends about my diagnosis just to get some support, but we didn’t really advertise it.  I still had more tests to go through.

The beginning of July came and it was time to go back for those tests.  Not knowing what I was going to encounter, I had Greg go with me that time.  The specialist decided to start with the lesser invasive tests first, just to start at ground zero and work our way up.  I don’t remember much about this visit, but the final say after having a few more tests was this.  The ‘cancer’ was gone.  The lump that he had thought would need to be taken out surgically was no longer there.  I was told to come in and repeat the process in another 3 months, to continue self exams and go in for a mammogram every six months for 2 years then annually after that.  (I was only 36 at the time so I had a while before mammograms were considered ‘important’)

September came and I did as instructed, go through all the tests again to make sure it wasn’t there anymore.  Nope.  Nada.

Think of my experience as you will.  Misdiagnosis?  Irresponsible doctor giving a diagnosis before getting every test done?  Miracle?  I have felt all of these.  At first I was thankful that I was spared.  That I lived a very short life having breast cancer.  Grateful that I was given another chance.  Guilty because so many other women aren’t as lucky as I was.  Angry that I was told a worst case scenario without having all the information.  Exhausted from all the waiting and emotions.  Confused at where I was and what could happen.  Cautious at thinking that everything was alright.  Am I a survivor or victim of poor medical diagnosis?  I just know that when I see the color pink I tear up.  When I see the gobs of women walking ‘for a cure’ my heart is full.  When people talk about cancer I relive all of those emotions of thinking I had it too.

We all know someone affected with cancer.  One form or another.  I told you my story so that you can put another face to it.  After I was told my news I did a bit of research and learned just how much cancer runs in my family.  Most recently (4 years ago) my grandmother died of ovarian cancer.  I had no idea just how many family members lived, and died from, cancer!  So every cancer foundation touches my heart.  You  never know when someone you love, or you yourself, will hear those words.  “You have cancer.”  Its an ugly disease that doesn’t discriminate.  So lets pull together and work as hard as we can to find a cure.  It’s out there, somewhere, and we need to keep looking for it.

Help me raise some money for Relay For Life.  Visit my site and donate any increment you feel comfortable with.  Any amount helps.  Think about walking with us as well!  All the information is on my site.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

(oh,  SELF EXAM!  MAMMOGRAM! and if your gut tells you something is wrong – like mine did- go with it!)



In 1992 this happened:Greg and I got married.

In 1994 that turned to this:

And that turned into this:

That bundle of cuteness took four days to come out.  Four.  Days.  I’ll save you the pictures but can you say, conehead?  She made up for the horrible labor and delivery by being this:

and this:

Nothing but Cute-ness.  With a healthy dose of stubborn-ness mixed in for entertainment.

Then, in 1996, that became this:

Her long lasting carreer as big sister.  This baby was born to her the same day Cameron was born to mommy and daddy.  We had a glimpse of it then, but didn’t realize just how great a big sister she would be.

Then, somehow, in the blink of an eye, that became this:

How. Did. That. Happen?  1994 wasn’t that long ago, was it?  I mean really, I don’t feel like it was.  But the proof is in front of me.  I don’t know where she came from or what we did right, but I am grateful for it.  And, as I look at all of my kids, I can see that Greg and I are blessed beyong what we expected.  I may not recognize each action as a blessing, but kids are challenges.  They are also rewards.

Happy birthday Colleebear!


An Update in Photos

Life has been a roller coaster.  I’m not fond of roller coasters.  I’m afraid of heights.  This roller coaster has been a doozy and after much screaming, throwing my hands in the air, bargaining with any higher being that would listen to me, vomiting a few times, and feeling like my stomach was left behind at the last lurch, I am finally back on ground.  I’m not sure about the stability of it, but it’s better than the speed and uncertainty of the last ride I was on.  Rather than typing everything out I’m just going to catch you up in pictures.  You’d like that better anyway huh?  (captions *under* the photos)

Mini Turtle Brownies.  Yum to the O!  Want to know how?  Super simple.  Mix up a box of brownie mix and put in a well greased mini cupcake pan.  Or better yet, line the pan with the mini paper cups because these guys are HARD to get out!  Unwrap a Rolo and push into the batter.  Bake per directions on brownie mix box.  AS SOON as they come out of the oven press a walnut in the top.  Not the prettiest, but oh so delish.

The dogs woke me up one morning with their annoying bark.  This is what they were alerting me to.  I miss these guys.  They were regulars around our house.  One of them was so young that it still had fuzz on it’s antlers.

I was awful about taking pictures of our move.  Hello.  I was emotional.  There were a couple of times I had to completely walk away from the experience and try to gather my composure.  Or to pray.  Hard.  But there were over 12 trucks there, 2 suburbans, and a commercial moving truck.  There were more than 30 people there to help and support us.  (there were even teens there even though their parents were unable to come.)  The love that we felt that day was incredible.  With all of that help we were out of the “big house” in around 90 minutes.  At the “vacation home” people stayed until beds were set up and made and the kitchen was pretty.  Anyway, things are settling down here.  I’m sure I’ll post more about it later.  (oh, I *did* have pictures of people but they were less than happy with me posting those here.  Sorry.)

Battle of the Books with the Purple People!  These guys rock.  Uh, they call themselves the Purple People.  They are 4 of the cutest kiddos.  They were challenged to read 14 books and then went to a competition (thus the ‘Battle’ part) where they were asked questions about those books.  Atalie read every single one of them.  Some of them twice.  They won 2nd place in their school and went on to district.  They didn’t do as well there but they made their school, and parents, proud.

Our church provides the youth as many opportunities as possible for the kids to have wholesome entertainment.  Alternatives to some of the questionable activities at school.  Mormon Prom was something that Colleen has been looking forward to since she turned 15.  You might remember this post about how she asked a friend to this event.  Well, the day came.  What.  A.  Beauty.  We had a dear friend come help with her make-up and hair, she got her nails done by another friend, the dress was less than modest without sleeves but made perfect by Greg’s mom (so grateful that the dress came with a wrap that we could use for sleeves!  AND thankful the dress was a donation!  It was PERFECT!) and the shoes were a cumulative of gift cards she has been holding on to for this event.  We pampered her with the jewelry and bag.

Not conventional prom footwear, but oh-so-Colleen!

A* walking in the door with the *home made* corsage!

Colleen’s favorite picture.  She likes the peace sign.

A*, Colleen, K*, and M* (I love the candid shots)

MY favorite picture of the two of them.  I think.  Okay, who am I kidding?  I loved ALL of the pictures!

The girls.  K*, Colleen, and M*.

Okay, I think that is enough of that.  It was a very special time for me as a mom.  My baby girl is growing up.  {sniff, sniff}

Mother’s Day.  Cute rug rats, huh?

I adore this vase.

Other gifts.  They made me smile.  I also got breakfast in bed.  Crepes with fruit, scrambled eggs, and orange juice.  Mmmm.

And my honey making Mother’s Day dinner.  French Dip. It was so good.

So while my ride may not be as scary as it was a couple of months ago it is still moving along at a rapid pace.  Not the roller coaster.  Maybe more of a spinning ride.  Which I still don’t like but feel is a tad more tolerable.  Many thanks to my family (near and far, actually related or not) and good friends.  Rides are almost always more fun when you don’t have to do them alone.


Mandi and Goliath

It’s been a tough couple of weeks here at the Deputy household.  Wait, strike that.  It’s been a very tough couple of months here.  There is something about blogging when you feel as though the world is crumbling at your feet.  You just don’t have it in you to put on that happy face you know others are expecting.  You don’t want to go into your troubles because, quite frankly, you don’t want to come across as weak or be thought of as a downer.  People don’t come back to blogs if they feel like the Emotional Monster has come to claim their soul.  Nope.  So I’ve somewhat tried to deal with my trials as best I can on my own (with hints on FB just becuase I’ve needed to get it out every now and again)  I give facts of our situation to people who ask, but very few have seen me as raw as I feel.

I’ve come to realize that while many people are struggling right now in many areas of their lives (in much more serious ways than I am) that I can’t compare what I am going through to them.  It just isn’t the same.  We’re different people that are wired differently so even if we have the exact same struggle, we still won’t be able to know how each other is feeling. But we can listen and be there for each other.  Let the tears come and accept one another as we are.  Sometimes words aren’t necessary (sometimes they do more harm) but a hug, a smile, and a gentle nod of the head letting someone know you are there is all it takes to keep a troubled soul in the fighting ring rather than throwing in the towel.  I can say that right now I am doing the best that I can.  Not as well as some would like me to be doing, but I feel like I’m doing okay.   And you know what gets me through?  My family.  My friends.  My *true* friends who can listen to my hurt without turning it around and making it about them so that I have one more thing to stress about.  Prayer.  Mine, my family’s, people who know us and love us, and those from complete strangers.    There is one set of footprints in the sand right now, and I am so very grateful for that other pair.

Thank you.  For your thoughts, your messages, your prayers, and your strength because all too often it is YOUR strength that I feed off of.  I have just been in too dark a place to be able to find my own.  I hope that things continue to get better here and that I will find peace again.  “cause the pain you’ve been feeling, can’t compare to the joy that’s coming.”  I just have to try to hold on for a little while longer.

Whole New Ballgame!

Last night we were to share an evening with some very close friends eating homemade soups, salads, and bread sticks.  Then a little dessert and the boys were to start a great game of Risk.  Well, the soup, salad, and sourdough bread was fabulous.  The chocolate cookies were okay but since they were from a box they weren’t much to write home about.  The game of Risk?  Well, it never started.  As we ate our dinner the two 16 year old girls (one mine, the other belonging to the other family – but I still claim her) start talking about Mormon Prom that’s coming up in May.  This is the first year that either of our girls are able to attend, and M* already has a date.  Colleen has been a little more stressed than she should about being asked out or being the one to do the asking.  We all knew who she wanted to ask (or be asked by) but things weren’t moving very quickly so we all encouraged her to take the matters in to her own hands.  It’s 2011 for Pete’s sake!  There is nothing wrong with the females asking a guy to go on a date.  So the next step was a creative way of going about asking A* to the dance.  A* likes the tuba, but we couldn’t come up with a phrase using the word that flowed.  “You wan’tuba’ my date for prom?” just doesn’t sound right.  Agreed?  So we left the tuba idea.  A* likes food.  Sugar.  At the last party we had here at the house all of the teens decorated sugar cookies and A*’s had a ton of frosting and candy on it.  We thought about making sugar cookie hearts with words on them to ask.  BO-RING!  Trust me, with our family and the other family that was here, we knew we could come up with better.  A* also like baseball.  [ding, ding, ding, ding!]  Baseball it was.  Cookie with the question?  Nah.  Cake in the shape with a cute note? Blah. A real baseball with the question, “A* Will you go to M. Prom with me? {heart} Colleen” written in sharpie on it?  OH to the YEAH.  But why leave it at that?  Why don’t we go to his house and serenade him?  “(Don’t)Take Me Out To The Ballgame” our style.  In about 20 minutes  6 of us had this version created and down pat:

Don’t take her out to the ballgame

Take her out to the prom!

Buy her some flowers and chocolate too

Dress up real nice and you’ll both be so cute

Cause we’ll root, root, root for an answer,

If you say no, it’s a shame!

Because YOU, TWO, would be so cute

At the Mormon Prom!

Good, right?  The final question was, when should we do this?  Well, is A* home NOW?  K* made a phone call and found that he was indeed home by himself.  She then called S* (A*’s mom) to let her know what was going on (with both families there is 11 of us total and we wanted her to know we would all be there)  S* wanted to see it so she was going to try her best to get there.

Let’s Do This!

We dolled Colleen up in a baseball jersey, baseball cap, and a mitt so that she could kinda toss the ‘question baseball’ in it while she waited to throw it to him.  Some of the rest of us donned baseball caps as well and M* went as far as to take a bat so she could do some bodily damage in case A* said no.  Silly girl.  We took peanuts and hundreds of baseball cards to toss in the air, like confetti, if the answer was yes.  And away we went.

A*’s parents and brother were home by the time we pulled into their driveway. (mind you this was almost 9:30 at night)  We rang the bell and the parents came out, called A* to come too.  Colleen stood on the porch while the rest of us stood behind her and sang the song (Cameron even played the tune on his acoustic)  Greg got pictures of the whole thing.  Not very good ones since it was dark out, but still, cute.  After the song, Colleen handed A* the ball because she was shaking too badly to toss it to him.  He read it and said, “YES!” in a very happy way.  His dad told him that he needed to write the answer on the baseball and give it back to Colleen.  A*’s mom quickly said, “I’ll go get a sharpie!”  (I think they were excited too)  A* wrote “YES!” (in all caps with the exclamation point even) on the ball and gave it back to Colleen.  Baseball cards were thrown in the air as were peanuts.  It was a very exciting thing.

It’s cute to help your kid go through a time in their life that could be so awkward.  Colleen could have sat on her laurels and waited for someone to ask her and feel stressed about whether it would happen or not.  But she didn’t.  She went after what she wanted and it worked out for her.  Now don’t think we all didn’t worry that A* would feel pressure about saying yes because there were so many of us there, but he genuinely looked happy.  It’s fun to be friends with your kids’ friends’ parents so that your own little family feels more extended and you can share the joys and heartaches together.  It’s strange in a way too to have done this with Colleen because there is a video out there of me serenading Greg at work on Valentine’s day many moons ago.  And I feel like it wasn’t that long ago. 

I’m proud of Colleen.  I’m proud of her siblings and friends for supporting her and getting in on the fun instead of turning their noses up at it.  This is a new beginning of something wonderful. 

Pass me some Cracker Jacks because this, my friends, is a whole new ballgame!

(before heading to A*’s house)

(the ball asking the question)

(can you see the “YES!” on the ball?  nice thumbs up too!)

*I didn’t ask permission to use first names so I used initials instead.

{Sweet} Little Miss Atalie Bug

Dear Kristan,

My 10 year old daughter is celebrating her ½ birthday tomorrow.  It’s an excuse for us all to don our party hats and have more desserts.  No presents because seriously, I can barely afford my Skor bars right now, let alone throw a huge party and give gifts.  Sad for her but I tried to make it up to her by making cupcakes.  That’s how I roll.  Sad?  Here’s a cupcake.  Overwhelmed?  Here’s a cupcake.  Excited?  Cupcake.  Angry?  Cupcake.  You get the picture.


Atalie, my 10 year old (soon to be 10 *½*) doesn’t care for frosting.  WHA?!?!?!  I know, but I didn’t want to send unfrosted, naked cupcakes to school for her treat.  What kind of mom does that show I am?  A halfasser, that’s what kind.  And I am NOT a halfasser.  So, after much chatting about her treat she asked if she could take over and create something on her own.


{chorus singing}




Atalie’s Smore Cupcakes have now been born!  Appropriate for a ½ birthday don’t ya think?


I ran out of cupcakes before I ran out of frosting, I hate when that happens, and while I have a friend willing to take this burden from me I now have a ton of Marshmallow Cream Frosting sitting in my fridge.  Yet, I also have a packet of graham crackers in my pantry.  Hmmm . . .


We’ll chat soon, I hear some leftovers calling my name.


Memories of Mac & Cheese

So one of my goals this year is to be a little more helpful to Greg.  He is an amazing person who takes very good care of me and the kids.  I joke to people a lot that he is a better wife and mother than I am.  Well, for those of you who know him, really know him, you know I’m not kidding. One of Greg’s many talents is that he is excellent in the kitchen.  He bakes, he cooks,and he cleans up after himself.  He rocks.  If there is something that we like at a restaurant he creates it from scratch at home so we can eat it whenever we want.  Over the past few years the kitchen has been his domain.  I can’t compete with my limited skill (or even more limited desire).

Disclaimer:  remember we’re talking about my H-U-S-B-A-N-D here, so *BACK OFF!*  He’s taken.  Raise your own amazing husband.

Okay, had to get that out, and now that it’s out I can get back to my point.  My point is this: on the nights that Greg is driving an hour and a half home after a long day at work I feel like I should step up to the plate (ha, ha) and make dinner.  It would relieve stress from him and it would be good for me to learn some new recipes since I came into the relationship with only 7.  One for everyday of the week.  (there is a reason I don’t cook dinner, keep this in mind!)  Maybe my kids will like something I make or see that I’m trying to be a help to my spouse or maybe I’ll drag  include them in the kitchen with me so they can learn a thing or two as well.  Sounds like a win situation all the way around huh?  We’ll see how it works.

Lately I’ve been craving homemade macaroni and cheese.  Creamy yumminess that is no doubt one of this Southerner’s comfort foods.  I’ve made this one time before and it didn’t turn out so well, I’ve been hesitant to try again, but BY DARN IT, I will not let the Mac & Cheese conquer me!  I turned to my boyfriend go-to guy where recipes are concerned knowing he would not let me down.  Alton Brown.  {we love Alton at my house.  Greg has seen every episode of Good Eats and Feasting on . . . Greg even met Alton a few years ago at Costco at a book signing.  I have a picture of them together.  Both of them wearing black turtlenecks, wire-rimmed glasses, and hairstyles similar.  SO cute!)

Here is what dinner looked like:

The recipe turned out really well.  It satisfied my craving.  A couple of notes about it that I would change though is this:  First, boil your pasta in tomato sauce and water.  The tomato sauce flavors the pasta really nicely.  And it kind of cuts the bite of the cheese.  Second, I would not put as much sharp cheddar as the recipe calls for.  It turns out VERY sharp, so I would split the amount between sharp and mild or even Colby.  Third, pepper.  It was the other thing that cut the sharpness of the cheese.  Very important.  But you can add it to your own helping and not to the whole pot.  Other than that, it was a hit at the dinner table.  Oh, the memories that I mention in the title?  Well, I remember eating macaroni and cheese with tuna and canned peas as a kid and loving it.  Can’t stand canned peas now, but YUMM-O in mac & cheese!!!  Tonight’s dinner, the mac & cheese with sausage (which my kids call big hot dogs) and peas is my adult version of my childhood favorite. 

Here is Alton’s recipe for Stove Top Mac-N-Cheese:

  • 1/2 pound elbow macaroni
  • 4 tablespoons butter
  • 2 eggs
  • 6 ounces evaporated milk
  • 1/2 teaspoon hot sauce
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • fresh black pepper
  • 3/4 teaspoon dry mustard
  • 10 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, shredded

In a large pot of boiling, salted water (remember my tip here about tomato sauce – I did one 15 ounce can then added 2 of those cans worth of water to cook my pasta in) cook the pasta to al dente and drain.  Return to the pot and melt in the butter.  Toss to coat.

Whisk together the eggs, milk, hot sauce, salt, pepper, and mustard.  Stir into the pasta and add the cheese.  Over low hear continue to stir for 3 minutes or until creamy.

Make 6-8 servings.

That’s it!  Dinner in under 30 minutes.  I know it was good.  I hope it was helpful.